Lover Avenged(178)

The crash and holler that came through the study’s closed doors sounded like someone had been attacked, and Tohr’s body, frail though it was, responded on instinct, hitting the door hard and throwing it open.

Wrath was crouched behind the desk, arms out in front of him, the computer and phone and paperwork scattered as if he’d pushed them away, his chair on its side. The wraparounds the king always wore were in one of his hands, his eyes staring straight ahead.

“My lord-”

“Are the lights on.” Wrath was breathing hard. “Are the fucking lights on.”

Tohr rushed around and grabbed onto one of his king’s arms. “Out in the hall, yeah. And there’s the fire. What’s-”

Wrath’s powerful body started to shake so badly, Tohr had to jack the Brother up. Which required more muscle than he had. Fuck, they were both going down if he didn’t get help. Locking his mouth on his front teeth, he whistled loud and long and then got back with the job of trying not to lose hold of his king.

Rhage and Lassiter were the first to come running, and they burst through the door. “What the hell-”

“Turn the lights on,” Wrath hollered again. “Someone turn on the fucking lights!”



As Lash sat in front of the granite counter at the brownstone’s empty kitchen, his disposition improved greatly. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten about the Brotherhood walking off with crates of guns and slayer jars. Or that the Hunterbred apartments had been compromised. Or that Grady had escaped. Or that he had a symphath waiting for him up north who was no doubt cranking out because Lash hadn’t gone up there to murder someone yet.

It was just that cash was distracting. And a lot of cash was very distracting.

He watched as Mr. D brought over another Hannaford paper bag. More stacks of bills came out, each bundle secured by a cheapy tan rubber band. When the lesser was finished, not a lot of granite showed.

Hell of a way to get him to calm his shit down, Lash thought as he looked up when Mr. D was finished hauling bags in.

“How much in total?”

“Seventy-two thousand, seven hundred forty. I done bundled it in hun’red-dollar lots.”

Lash took one of the banded sets. This was not the neat and tidy currency that came from banks. This was dirty, wrinkled money, liberated from jeans pockets and mostly empty wallets and stained coats. He could practically smell the desperation wafting up from the bills.

“How much product do we have left?”

“Enough for another two nights like tonight, but no more. And there be only two more dealers left. ’Cept for the big one.”

“Don’t worry about Rehvenge. I’ll take care of him. In the meantime, don’t kill the other retailers-bring them to a persuasion center. We need their contacts. I want to know where and how they buy.” Of course, likely as not they transacted with Rehvenge, but maybe there was someone else. A human who was more malleable. “First thing this morning, you go and get us a safety-deposit box and put this in there. This is seed money, and we’re not losing it.”

“Yessuh.”

“Who sold the shit with you?”

“Mr. N and Mr. I.”

Great. The fucktards who had let Grady bolt. Still, they had performed on the streets, and Grady had met a creative and uncomfortable end. Plus Lash had gotten to see Xhex in action. So all wasn’t lost.

He was so going to be paying ZeroSum a visit.

And as for N and I, killing them was better than they deserved, but right now he needed those assholes out making paper. “At nightfall, I want those two lessers pushing product.”

“I thought you’d want to-”

“First of all, you don’t think. And secondly, we need more of this.” He tossed the scrubby bills back amid the piles. “I have plans that cost money.”

“Yessuh.”

Abruptly reconsidering things, Lash leaned forward and picked up the bundle he’d thrown back. The shit was hard to let go of, even though all of it was his, and somehow, the war seemed less interesting all of a sudden.

Bending down, he grabbed one of the paper bags and filled it up. “You know that Lexus.”

“Yessuh.”

“Take care of it.” He reached into his pockets and tossed Mr. D the keys to the thing. “That’s your new ride. If you’re going to be my street man, you have to look like you know what the fuck you’re doing.”

“Yessuh!”

Lash rolled his eyes, thinking that it took so little to motivate the stupid. “Don’t fuck up anything while I’m gone, will you?”

“Where you be off to?”

“Manhattan. I’ll be reachable on my cell. Later.”